


Soaring High

by TheNobodyofaSOLDIER



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Mental Health Issues, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, cystic fibrosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29993091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNobodyofaSOLDIER/pseuds/TheNobodyofaSOLDIER
Summary: One shots for "Haikyuu!"
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Reader, Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Kageyama Tobio/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Nishinoya Yuu/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Sugawara Koushi/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	1. Look

[Oikawa x OCD!Reader]

_Look this way._

_Stop staring into the darkness._

_Why gaze where you can’t see?_

_Stop staring into the darkness._

_Look this way._

Every day felt like looking into a narrow tunnel; nothing but darkness all around. You coped as best as you could. You fabricated the cleverest of disguises, diverting the attention of fellow students away from the real you, hiding inside the hard protective shell. You laughed. You smiled. You conversed accordingly. 

But, you saw little to nothing.

Just the thin ray of light at the end of your tunnel - nothing much, but just enough to prevent you from surrendering to the blackness. 

Something resided there in that light, you were certain.

But, the thousands of voices screaming, echoing within the hollows of your mind prevented you from ever daring to explore what it might be.

_”Hey.”_

_”Hello in there!”_

_”Look!”_

_”Over here!”_

You only gazed forward.

You went about your day.

You finished your school.

You hid within your home,

and cried until you felt nothing anymore.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Another day began.

Conversed accordingly...ate what you needed...worked...worked...worked.

“Almost there,” you’d tell yourself in attempt to pad the constricting feeling building in your chest. 

“Just a little more,” you’d say when the voices whispered those helpless notions and ideas into your mind, cycling over...and over...and over again.

Then, you heard it again.

That one voice...foggy, distant...

Yet, it still delivered such a strange sense of comfort.

_”Helloooo there?”_

_”Hey, I’m trying to talk to you!”_

_”Over here!”_

_”Look over here!”_

But, the darkness never lifted.

You only gazed forward.

You went about your day.

You finished your school.

You hid within your home,

and cried until you felt nothing anymore.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Another day began.

And you couldn’t take it anymore.

Nothing changed. Nothing mattered.

And your light dwindled.

You refused to speak. Food revolted you. Sounds melded together into nothing but muddled noises. Words became nothing more than black blotches in a sea of white pages. You barely conjured the strength to move your limbs from room to room.

And you gazed into nothing. 

You searched for anything at all, a speck of light, a glimmer, a twinkle.

Nothing...

You closed your eyes. You held your breath. 

Maybe you would just disappear. 

_”Hey!”_

_”Are you okay?”_

_Warm..._

_So warm..._

_”Hey, come on now. Open your eyes.”_

Your eyes slowly peeled open. Upon seeing a blurry, hint of light, your heart raced. 

”Aw, there we are,” silky fingertips brushed across your cheeks. 

“Sorry?” your voice cracked as you rubbed away salted fluid accumulating at the corners of your eyes.

Locks of soft brown, sparkling eyes...

An angel?

Lifting your sweaty cheek, pressed into the desk, you rumpled the top of your hair. 

“Aha! You’re awake!” the cheery voice finally resounded loud and clear. 

“Yeah, sorry,” you half mumbled in reply. You blinked rapidly, until your sight adjusted: uniform of aqua and white, fairly tall and built, a bright smile. “Oikawa Toru...right?”

His entire demeanor seemed to light up at the mention of his name.

“Yeah! You got it!” and he flashed you a wink. “You’re in a lot of my classes, ya know.”

Your heart sank, and your stomach dropped. Forcing out an awkward laugh, you replied,

“Is...that right?”

Much to your surprise, the joviality in his face melted away, until all that remained was a subtle smile. A small gasp escaped your mouth as he gently placed his hand atop your own. You flinched. You nearly tore it away, but the heat of the skin to skin contract, the trace of comfort this simple human touch held kept you in place.

“Kinda hard,” he said while rubbing his thumb over the outline of your thumb. “when you’re just trying to survive each day, huh?”

For a brief moment, with a loud thud, and your blood running cold, you were certain your heart stopped, and your mind ceased all function. For only a second, you were certain reality finally slipped through your fingers.

“S...Sorry?”

Raising an eyebrow, he tilted his head. 

“I know I look like an idiot,” he drew his hands back to his person, pressing his fingertips together. “But, I can see you. One minute, you’re laughing and smiling with your friends. Next, you look like walking death.” he paused a moment, allowing his words to hang heavy. “Am I wrong?”

_Oh, fuck. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die._

_Can’t breathe..._

_My heart’s gonna explode._

_Shit, he found me out. Now everyone will know._

_You crazy bitch._

_Everyone’s gonna know you’re insane..._

Frozen in place, a million thoughts circulated through your mind. Your heart hammered your ears. Your vessels pulsed and throbbed. You could feel your wind pipes close.

Yet, you remained so very still.

But, much to your surprise, a delicate chuckle escaping his lips, he said,

“I know what it’s like to pretend.”

Another silence, you waited for the tension in your muscles to release, and the alarm within you to finally turn itself off.

“I don’t know what’s going on in there,” he took your face in his hands. “But, I know what it means to fake a smile just to satisfy people’s expectations,” he managed to force another laugh. “Sounds crazy, but I do.”

Before he could utter another word, you threw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking him from his desk. You gave no consideration what the outcome might be to this. 

You just needed to cling onto something substantial, someone who understood, something _real._

Your fingers clenched his jacket. Tears soaked into the fabric. The more you sobbed, the more that aching inside released you from its clutches little by little. 

_Finally..._

Despite the sudden burst of emotion, he simply encircled his arms around your trembling shoulders, stroking your hair, whispering words of sympathy you so desperately needed. 

_Look this way._

_Stop staring into the darkness._

_Why gaze where you can’t see?_

_Stop staring into the darkness._

_Look this way._

“It’s okay,” he whispered, gently. 

With a loud inhale, you rubbed your moistened face along your sleeve. For the first time in what seemed like centuries, you managed to laugh.

“Wow, sorry,” you said, still wiping your face. “We finally talk, and I treat you like a tissue.”

His face suddenly beamed once more, and he took over, brushing your cheeks with his palm. 

“It’s all good,” he said with a chuckle. “Since we got that part out of the way, how about some coffee after school?”

With a smile, and a light flutter of your heart, you replied, taking is hands into your own,

“Yeah...yeah, I’d like that.”

_Look where you can see._

_Walk where the light touches._

_Just follow me._

_Look this way._

_Look._


	2. Belong

[Bokuto x Depressed!Reader]

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

”Heeeey.”

Like an alarm in the morning hours, you were awakened from the darkness of your thoughts.

You blinked.

Your eyes adjusted.

Eyes of gold and hair of silver; metals considered to be so precious, but not as precious as the person to whom they belonged.

Calloused hands cupped your face, and a pair of lips crashed against your own in a quick kiss - to be honest, it was borderline a head-butt. Your heart jumped at the sudden, aggressive contact.

“Bokuto-!?”

“Hey, no need to get angry! Just bringing you back!”

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head.

“What...?”

In his usual fashion, Bokuto grinned so wide, you’d think his cheeks would split. Pressing his forehead to yours, he stated once more, but this time, in almost a whisper,

“Just bringing you back to where you belong.”

You were certain your heart skipped a beat.

Feathering the lightest of kisses across your brow, your temple, the shell of your ear, he muttered ever so softly, such a contrast to his boisterous personality, he muttered,

“I saw that look in your eyes. Were you listening to the bad voices in your head again?”

Sucking in your bottom lip, you lowered your head.

“Well, I...”

“You can’t hide from me, babe,” he flashed a wink.

As you pursed your lips, he took you by the wrists and pulled you into a tight embrace, secure, warm. You caught the scent of his sweat and musk, but nothing smelt better to you. Your throat constricting, eyes burning with tears, your buried your face into his shoulder, fisting his shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” your voice muffled into the fabric. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Babe, don’t worry about it,” he said, nuzzling your head with his cheek. “You don’t belong there, where it’s all dark. You belong here with me.”

“I just can’t help it sometimes.”

“Oh, I know!” he nudged you away just enough for you to see his bright face. “But, that’s why I’m here. Don’t listen to that bullshit. Listen to me.” once more taking your face in his hands, he rubbed his nose against yours. “You’re awesome, and you’re doing great! Got it?”

Immediately, peels of giggling vibrated in your throat from his playful touches.

“Goooot it?” he lightly nipped your nose, then your cheek, then your chin.

“Okay, okay! I got it!”

“‘Cause I’m always right, right?”

“Ugh, Bokuto, I get it,” your attempts at pushing him away were futile - then again, you weren’t exactly trying.

“Who’s the best boyfriend ever?” breaking past those pathetic barriers, he aimed for your cheek once more, nuzzling the reddened skin.

“Don’t you have some practicing to do?”

“Say it. SAAAAAAAY IT.”

“FINE. You’re the best boyfriend ever,” you laughed, lightly slapping his chest.

“Damn right, I am!” triggering a yelp from you, he lifted you from the ground, literally spinning you about. “And you belong right here! You cannot escape!”

All you could do in turn was laugh.

You could fight all you want with these feelings, but in the end, you did belong with him. He saved your life from the quiet demons in your mind.

And he would be there to fend them off again and again.


	3. Pretty

[Kuroo x CF!Reader]

_cystic fibrosis - a hereditary disorder affecting the exocrine glands, causing the production of abnormally thick mucus, leading to the blockage of the pancreatic ducts, intestines, and bronchi and often resulting in respiratory infection_

_So ugly..._

The lines of your ulnas and radii, the bulbous protrusions of your bony processes, the pasty, dryness that was now your skin, the hollows in your cheeks, the deepening circles dragging down your eyes, the plastic tubes practically shoved up your nostrils and various needles delving into blood vessels...

You were once so lovely, so full of life.

You once could dash about in your yard. You once could sing your heart out with no care in the world. Hell, you could lie on your couch with nothing conflicting your body.

How you missed those days.

Now, it took so much effort just to breathe without the urge to cough up that thickening, disgusting mucous in your deteriorating lungs.

Now, you barely slept, wondering how much time you would spend in this bleached hospital, surrounding by the humming of machines all keeping you alive, a window with rather tacky, green curtains, and a television set with limited channels.

Now, you couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror anymore.

You didn’t even resemble yourself anymore; oh no, you had seen images of zombies with more life than you.

You felt like nothing but a shell of someone you once were.

That vibrant spirit you once had was fled and gone.

_So ugly..._

Bringing your knees to your chest, your hands fisted the pristine sheets as you battled the urge to weep.

 _Is this it...?_ you wondered. _Is this how I’m going to die? Alone in this sterilized hellhole?_

_So lonely..._

_So scared..._

_So fucking ugly..._

Squeezing your eyes together, a tiny, solitary tear rolled down the crevices of your face. 

Until a light rap came to the door. Your heart leapt as you raised your head from the pillow.

“Hey there,” echoed a familiar voice. 

Your grin nearly split your face as soon as you spotted the tall figure, ebony hair tossed and messy and feline eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Well, this is a surprise,” you replied, flashing a wink. “How’s the Captain today?”

Kuroo lazily swung a chair to your bedside, draping an elbow over the rails.

“Ah, the usual,” he said with a shrug. “Practice as always.”

You slid your fingers through the madness that was his hair. Immediately, he closed his eyes and sighed at the contact.

“You always work so hard,” you replied. 

“Aw, you’re too kind, babe,” with that, he smirked in return. “So, how’s my little lady doing?”

_Awful._

“Eh, same old, same old,” you stated, continuing your movements. “Food still sucks. Can’t catch up on any programs, and drugs make me too loopy to focus on homework, ya know?”

“Ah, but aren’t you exempt from that?”

“Yeah, but at least it’d be productive.”

Catching your wrist in his hand, Kuroo left a small peck on the back of your hand. Your heart jumped.

“Don’t worry about it, babe,” the usual humor in his voice diminished just a hint. “The most important thing is that you come back to me well.”

The heaviness in your chest swelled. 

If only you could promise him that...

Your words ran dry, so you lowered your gaze to your hands now folded in your lap. 

You and Kuroo were a part of each other’s lives for what seemed like forever. You were neighbors, playmates, schoolmates, teammates, and eventually, he gathered up the courage to ask you to finally become his significant other, the love of his life, his soulmate. He knew of your condition since day one. In fact, he had been there at your side through hospital visits, trips to the emergency room, hours at your bedside, rubbing your back through severe attacks. He never departed until you were back out with him once more, enjoying your everyday activities. You wondered how people viewed you as you strolled the halls of Nekoma together, he being so tall and built, and you being so frail in appearance. Nonetheless, his fingers remained enter-twined with yours, tugging you to his side.

As you matured, so did your illness. Soon, you had to quit your various sports due to exercise intolerance. You skipped more classes, spending them in the nurse’s office, hacking and coughing up that nasty mucus.

Somehow, Kuroo always found out. 

And there he would be, patting your back, until your system was clear for the time being. 

How you hated yourself for putting him through all this. How he managed to stay upbeat was beyond you. He always assured you, with that stupid, shit-eating grin of his,

“It’s all worth it for you, babe.”

But, you always noted that hint of sadness behind the windows to his soul.

Every kiss he made sure was better than the last. Every embrace lasted much longer than other’s, you were certain.

And if you earned a yen for every time he said I love you, you were certain you’d both be millionaires. 

Not once did he speak of any sadness he might of felt, or worry that might have plagued him.

Words could not even begin to explain how much you loved him for that.

Even now, as you sat there, trying to hard to keep yourself together, he reached over to hold onto your hand as they trembled.

Glancing over at him, you spotted a gentler smile, one that softened his usually hard features. Before you could speak, he slid into the empty space in your bed, pulling you to his side. Without a second thought, you rested your head against his chest.

“Hang in there,” he murmured. 

“I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Is there something I can do for you right now? Anything at all, you name it.”

You wriggled your nose just a bit as you thought, but it didn’t take long to come up with the exact thing you wanted.

You didn’t care if it sounded stupid. It was what you needed right then and there.

“Tell me I’m pretty,” you said plainly.

“What’s that?”

“Tell me I’m still pretty,” you said again, raising your eyes to meet his. “I feel nothing but shitty these days. A little pick me up would do a lot of good. So...just tell me I’m pretty.”

Eyes shifting away in thought, he pursed his lips together, gathering his thoughts, planning everything he was going to say. Finally, he grinned.

“Babe,” he began in a low, almost silly, dramatic voice. “You are so beautiful and heavenly, as if the angels-”

You burst into laughter, lightly batting his nose. 

“Hey-!”

“Not that much, ya moron!” you retorted with a giggle. “I want it from _you,_ not some weirdass caricature!”

Clicking his tongue, he shrugged his shoulders and laughed. 

“Whatever you say, your highness,” and once more, he pulled you into his chest.

You smiled at the warmth through the fabric of his shirt. Your skin tingled feeling the beating of his heart.

Such small mementos, yet they brought you a world of comfort.

Lightly stroking your hair, Kuroo muttered against the skin of your temple,

“Your hair is so pretty. I always love to play with it. Your skin is so nice to the touch,” his arms tightened about you. “You’re so easy to hold all snug and carry in my arms.”

You laughed softly as he playfully nipped your ear.

“You have the prettiest smile,” he said. “Even when you’re feeling like hell, your smile still brightens a room.”

Your pulse raced.

“Your eyes always sparkle,” he adjusted you as such, allowing him to cup your face in his hands. “Even when filled with tears, I always see a glint of light in them. That takes a lot of strength to do that, and it’s beautiful.”

Right on cue, your eyes swelled.

“Oh, Kuroo...”

He smiled softly and kissed your forehead.

“I’m just telling it like it is.”

A moment of silence hung in the air as he hold you close.

A slow inhale and a shaky exhale, as if he was resisting the urge to cry...

You simply closed your eyes, taking in his scent, his warmth, the beat of his heart.

“You’re not just pretty - you’re _beautiful._ So beautiful. Nothing will ever change that.”

You smiled as those words echoed in your mind as the envelope of sleep finally engulfed you.

_So...._

_beautiful..._


	4. Finals

[Oikawa x Reader]

"It's never going to eeeend," you mumbled, rubbing your face in your hands.

"Oh, sure it is, babe!"

Your forehead collided with the crease of your open book. 

_Thud...thud...thud..._ You hoped perhaps the hard surface meeting repeatedly with your skull would jostle some brain cells back into place, but that was just cheap luck. 

"I'm not gonna get through this...."

You felt a pair of strong arms snake around your waist, and pieces of hair tickling your neck. 

"Baaaaaabyyyyy," a smooth voice sang in your ear, sending tingles down your spine. 

"Toru," you whined into the paper pages. "Stoooooop that." 

You felt him pinch your cheeks ever so lightly. 

"Come ooooon," he sang again. "You've had your nose in that book all day."

"Finals are almost here," you murmured, and you wrapped your arm around your head. "I have to do well on these, or else, I'm screwed."

Warm, silky lips met with the shell of your ear, causing you to squirm in your chair. You failed to conceal a giggle bubbling in your throat.

"Pwease?" he asked, sticking out his bottom lip. "I need some attention now. Pay attention to me."

"Get off me."

"No, notice me."

His arms tightened about you as he pressed his cheek into your shoulder. Your air pipe constricted.

"SHIT-STOP IT-!" you choked. "Are you trying to kill your girlfriend?!"

"Pay attention to meeeee!" 

Before you realized it, you were slowly being lifted from your seat. The sweat from your forehead served as a glue for your papers, causing them to stick. 

"What the hell!? Oikawa! Stop!"

Ignoring your desperate pleas, he dragged you to the nearest sofa. After sinking into the plush cushions, he wrapped his legs about you to prevent your escape. No matter how much you wriggled and turned, hope for freedom was futile. 

"Oh my gosh, Toru!" you groaned. "Let me gooooooo!"

But, he said nothing. Instead, his fingers dug into your side. Immediately, spouts of laughter burst forth from your throat.

"Stop, stop, stop! That tickles!!" you cried, attempting to thrash from his arms.

"Nope," he retorted and continued his assault. 

You considered yourself a relatively strong person. You considered yourself, considerably strong of will. Still, even you could not handle the long fingers of Oikawa feathering across your most sensitive nerve endings. Your abdomen ached. Your cheeks ached. Your throat burned.

You had it.

"Oh my gosh, okay, okay! I get it!" you gasped. "I give! I'll take a break!"

His brown eyes glimmered with delight. Much to your relief, he ceased.

"You will?!"

"Yes," you said, taking in a deep breath. "I can't really absorb anymore information anyway."

Thus, you fell limp in his arms. With a little smile, you turned to your side, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Thanks for reminding me," you said. "Rest is important."

His face seemed to glow at the contact.

"That's right," he said, rubbing his hands up and down the length of your arms. "I know you like the back of my hand. I can tell when you're starting to fall apart."

You frowned and avoided his gaze.

"I will admit," you mumbled. "I've been pretty worried about these tests. Lots of pressure hanging over my head, ya know?"

With a simple hum, he brushed the rim of his lips down your neck. Despite the little shivers traversing down your back, you couldn't deny the sense of peace you received from his touch. 

"Don't worry about it," he said, fingers running through your hair. "You've worked hard. You got this."

You felt tears burn the corners of your eyes. 

"You think so?"

With a little cheeky, laugh, he nuzzled your cheek. 

"I know so!" with one more peck on your jaw, he loosened his grip and pulled you to your feet. "Now, how about some pizza and ice cream?"

Immediately, a grin spread across your face.

"Sounds perfect, Toru."


	5. Stop, Go

[Kageyama x OCD!Reader]

You glanced at your hands, now red, raw, peeling. The faucet still ran. You dared not look into the reflection, the figure with sunken eyes and matted hair. 

Yet, you still felt your skin crawl, the shivers worming their way up your arm.

No.

Not enough.

It wasn’t enough. 

Licking your dry, cracked lips, you dispensed another glob of soap in your hand and rubbed...and rubbed...and rubbed.

In between your fingers, under your nails, in the cracks of your palm, you twisted and turned your hand beneath the running water. Your heart throbbed. Your breaths came in short. You felt like crumbling to the floor.

 _Stop._ Let the water run.

 _Go._ Rub it away.

 _Stop._ Let it run.

 _Go._ And start from the beginning.

You failed.

You made all this progress only to fall.

You battled this horrid illness for as long as you could remember. Even as a child, you succumbed to fear, be it great or small. It wasn’t until you were in junior high that your parents finally brought you to a psychiatrist, diagnosing you with the debilitating illness known as OCD - obsessive compulsive disorder. You heard of this before. You and those around you assumed it meant people who were exceedingly neat and organized. 

Never would you believe such a foolish notion again.

 _Obsession,_ the thoughts that replayed in your mind over and over again, spiking anxiety so strong, you nearly forget how to breathe.

 _Compulsion,_ the habits and strange rituals you acted out in order to cope with this anxiety. 

_Disorder..._

To you, it just meant insanity. Your doctor attempted to convince you that you had nothing to be ashamed off, that it was just a sickness and nothing more.

But, when you found yourself falling to the influence of your fears, the terror building up by the minute, you couldn’t believe it...

You were sick of it, sick and tired of it.

So, you made an effort to change. 

Throughout high school, you changed everything. It hurt. Damn, did it hurt. 

But, it was worth it all.

Your grades improved. Your relationships strengthened. You even found a boyfriend you grew to love and depend on.

And it was none other than volleyball player Kageyama Tobio, the King of the Court.

It started small, from sitting with him during lunch our and asking for help on assignments to walking home together after school. These little moments blossomed a little at a time, each and every day, until you found yourselves spending every minute you could together. You never thought of yourselves as romantic, but it was quiet, simple with an emotional depth than ran so below the surface, no one save for you two could perceive.

That was how it should be.

You were certain you could finally put everything behind you, the obsessions, the worries, those moments of such darkness, you couldn’t tell if you would come out the other side or not. You finally felt the anxiety set you free.

But, those signs returned. Like ticks on a dog, they latched onto you dragging you from your life to trap you in their cycle of death. You spent a few minutes alone, submitting to the compulsions. What started as a few minutes escalated to half hours, then hours.

And here you were, waiting for Tobio to finish his practice, locked in the bathroom, scrubbing your hands until the delicate skin stung.

You had fallen.

But, you couldn’t...stop yourself.

 _Stop._ Let the water run.

 _Go._ Rub it away.

 _Stop._ Let it run.

 _Go._ And start from the beginning.

_Stop..._

_Stop it now..._

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, piercing your sensitive skin, hot tears seared down your cheeks. 

_Stop._ And your hands trembled, anxiety coursing through you.

 _Go._ You surrendered to its power once more.

 _Stop._ You had to let the thoughts sit. Giving in would only feed the beast.

 _Go._ But, the terror was too much to take. You had to. What if you didn’t?

“Stop.”

A quiet voice snapped you back into reality. You sat there a moment, frozen in your spot. Your heart pounded, and your breath caught in your throat. A heated palm, fingers rough and calloused, encircled your wrist. The pad of the thumb trailed down the heavily pulsing vein.

And once again, you heard the soft, low voice:

“Stop.”

Slowly, you turned your head to meet the stormy gaze of Tobio. Shielded by his black locks, his eyes were hard yet still possessed a familiar calm. 

The silence thickened for what seemed like ages, until he muttered once again,

“Stop.”

Your arms fell limp at your side, the faucet still running. Though anxiety still bubbled in your knotting stomach, you were relieved someone stopped you. Moreover, you were thankful it was _him._

He knew about your struggle with this illness, and not once did he question or judge you as you cried in his arms or trembled speaking of those troublesome memories to him. Even if he failed to fully understand these struggles, he never doubted your strength. 

So, despite what seemed like a cold edge to his stare, and the hard line of his lips pressed together, you felt safe at his side. You knew, somehow, even with your head spinning and drowning you in this madness, you knew everything was going to be fine. 

A little at a time, his face softened, and his grip around your wrist loosened lightly. 

“Stop,” he whispered. “That’s not gonna help.” 

To your surprise, he brought your tender hand to his lips, brushing them over a sore spot. 

Finally, you exhaled sharply. Without a second thought, you rushed into his arms and latched onto him. The strange smell of sweat and leather invaded your nostrils, but these normally rancid odors could not be matched by any perfume you might have owned. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, burying your face into his shoulder.

“Stop,” he said again, petting the back of your head. “Don’t apologize.”

“But, I...”

“We fail sometimes,” you felt his fingertips massage the exhausted nerves beneath your scalp, allowing you to breathe. “All you can do is get back up, and you will.”

Your salted tears soaked into his shirt, as you relieved yourself of these agonizing emotions.

That was all you needed to hear, for someone to tell you that you would pick yourself up again, that you would be okay.

All you needed was for someone to finally tell you...

...to _stop._


	6. A Sky Full of Stars

[Oikawa x Reader]

_1..._

_2..._

_3..._

_”Ole!”_

The ball flies across the court with the speed of a shooting star, the lights brimming the spherical rims. 

Your heart pounds.

Your knuckles whiten.

Your eyes widen and glisten with delight.

And then...

_SLAM!_

The ball meets the floor with such speed, one blink, one breath, and the opposing team falls to the hands of the Grand King; Oikawa Toru. 

Sweaty fingertips brush aside matted, burgundy locks. Dark eyes sparkle with satisfaction.

“Game. Set. Match.”

The cheers from Aoba Jousai High reverberate off the walls, piercing your ears. Even still, you rise from your seat and throw your arms in the air. 

In the midst of this huge crows, you become a tiny star in the midst of millions of others, brighter, prettier, more radiant. Your voice melds with the enthusiastic screams and cries of adoring ladies, nothing more than a whisper in turmoil.

Yet, his eyes rest only on you. His usual proud stance bends just a little from the fatigue of the game. The normal cockiness drenching his face washes a way for a moment as he gazes into your face. 

He sees you, your smile like the sun, basking him in its glow, your eyes twinkling like stars. 

This feels like the end to a long, tedious journey, one filled with tears, frustration and even hopelessness. 

Ever since you were children, a volleyball flew from his hands. He never rested until he was out on a court, ball in hand, whether he was alone or not. 

You felt so insignificant at his side. You knew he was destined for greatness, a genius in his sport, a master in his own right.

The road seemed to paved for him. 

But, he pushed himself passed the bounds of his own limits. 

And you knew it too.

So, why did you not possess the courage to speak of it?

You convinced yourself that he would simply continue on with his ways. But, you never ceased in torturing yourself over it, especially when you found him grasping his knee, brows crinkled, teeth clenched. 

You wondered if it hurt you more than even he. 

He crumbled. 

And for a brief moment, his dreams came with him.

Your visits were relentless. At times, he greeted you with open arms, a kiss, a word of love. Others, he sharply rejected you, preferring to wallow in his despair.

But, you never left. You simply withered to the ground, releasing the pain out into the open. No one listened. No one was around. But, anything was better than allowing it to fester inside of you. 

It seemed like ages until he let you back into his arms again.

And sliding his fingers through your locks, pressing kisses into your temples, he muttered,

“Missed you.”

With a slow exhale, the pain, the heartache melted away a little at a time.

Though his knee required a little more recovery, his attitude changed for the better. This time, he kept you close. This time, he would never let you go.

The screams subsides to a thin hum of the remaining echoes. The students return to their homes, and the the players to the locker rooms to wind down before returning home.

Only Oikawa remains, eyes closed, breathing in the air. You smile, scanning over his features, the curve of his jaw, the tip of his nose, his locks glowing beneath the heavy lights.

He truly is a king in your eyes, a sky full of stars.

And you are one of million. 

Suppressing a giggle, you slide your arms around his waist,pressing a cheek to his moist shoulder blade. He neither jumps nor gasps but rests his hands atop yours.

“You sure you wanna do that?” he asks. “I’m still really sweaty.”

“Ah, you know I’m used to it,” you reply, placing a chaste kiss in the crook of his neck. You grimace as you lick away the saltiness from your lips. “Bleh.”

“I told you!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

A deep chuckle rumbling in his chest, he turns you about until your chin rests against the center of his chest, eyes beaming up at him. His heart throbs just a hint. Even after all these years of knowing you, one look could still take his breath away.

He gazes into your face, his fingers lightly outlining your face. A hint of pink lightly tinges your face.

“How are you feeling?” you inquire, your voice no louder than a whisper.

He breathes, slow, deep, and presses his forehead to yours, taking in your scent, the light perfume, the shampoo you used that morning, your hair tickling his skin.

“Better than ever,” he mutters, kissing your forehead. 

Grinning widely, you embrace him tightly, nestling into him, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

And as he exhales, it is as if releasing every bad thought, every distressing emotion.

He has you, everything he needs.

You see him as a vast sky full of stars, gleaming brighter than any star around him, including your own weak, little rays.

But, even you fail to realize, out of all these balls of light,

you are the brightest one of all.


	7. Paces

[Sugawara x Injured!Reader]

It was the perfect time of day; a gentle, warm summer brace, birds twittering as they nestled in their nests for the evening, the sun painting the evening sky with a myriad of purples, reds and oranges, petals from blossoming flowers and green leaves floated by you, the streets emptying as kids and grown ups alike return to the safety of their home after a day of work and play.

Leaning back in your wheelchair, you inhaled the scent of fresh grass, flowers, occasionally dinner for a nearby house. Ever since your car accident, you remained indoors, watching those of the outside world pass you by. Neither possessed you the strength nor the energy to do much else. Occasionally, you would read, play games, any gentle task that suited your fancy.

Days like this were more precious than gold.

As you waited in the front of your yard, a tall and lean figure approaching you entered your peripheral vision.

Immediately, your heart began to tremble with joy.

“Suga!” you swallowed a girlish giggle threatening to escape you throat as you waved with excitement.

His eyes, soft and brown, widened just a hind, and a delicate smile curved across his mouth. When he approached you, cupping your cheeks and greeting you with a light kiss, that smile still remained. Before you could savor the tingling sensation of his butter lips, he pulled away with glittering eyes.

“Shall we get started?” he said, a voice softer than velvet.

“But, I-”

He placed a finger over your lips as you attempted to lean in for another kiss. “Nah ah, that can be for later. Right now, we have work to do.”

With a huff and an eye roll, you nodded and gripped his shoulder. He slid his arm around the small of your back. Butterflies filled your chest. The last few times you attempted to stand and walk, you nearly keeled over. If he had not been there to hold you, you most certainly would have collapsed.

But, this beautiful angel from above, this talented player on the volleyball court, remained at your side. You two had been dating for a glorious year and a half now, and you never remembered a time when your joy overwhelmed you like this. Despite his shyness and soft demeanor, he still loved to hold hands with you or link arms with you in public. He pulled our your chair for you, opened the doors for you, kissed your cheek as he left. Of course, he would be blushing furiously in the process, and you told him plainly that if it bothered him, you would not mind him taking it down a notch. Still, he kept up these quiet actions that expressed his love for you.

And just when you were so convinced that things couldn’t possibly get any better, that he reached his limit, you were pinned beneath your parents’ car in possibly one of the worst accident in a few years. You legs were crushed beneath the weight of the car. The fact that you even made it out alive proved that miracles occurred.

Immediately, he dropped the ball in the middle of practice and hurried to the hospital. That was it. He had to see you.

He fidgeted outside the waiting room. He slept in your room, brought you food, held your hand in between those horrible hours of waiting for pain medication.

He made those nightmares a little easier.

But, even after those long months, those dragging months, the depth of his devotion continued to grow.

Everyday, he showed up on your lawn. He checked on you, cooked meals for you or helped you with chores around the house. When you started your physical therapy, he arrived on day one just to hold your hand as you stood up for the first time in what seemed like forever. No matter a redundant the therapy seemed, he clasped you tightly, encouraging you the entire way.

The paces were slow, but his patience outlasted the mundane.

And your teenage infatuation turned into a love that dove deeper than the ocean.

“Ah-!” you winced a bit as the sharp pangs shot up your legs as the weight of your body settled on your feet.

“I got you,” he whispered, his grip tightening.

Biting your peeling bottom lip, you nodded, and holding your breath, you took one step.

Oh, it hurt. Every tread came weak and staggered. Your aching legs wobbled. You practically clawed at his jacket in fear of falling. With a delicate voice, a breath against your cheek, he would smile and say,

“You’re doing great.”

And that was all you needed.

You took a small loop around the yard before you were plastered against him, too tired to continue. He patted your shoulder with bright eyes.

“That was the best you’ve ever done!” he cheered. “You’re moving along so well!”

You giggled just a little as he lead you back to your wheelchair. “I always feel more determined when you’re around,” you admit with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Hey, I’m honored to be a part of that.”

A hint of pink tinted your cheeks. Then, a soft warmth tingled them as his hands encircled your face. His lips lightly brushed over yours, lighter than a breath, soft than the caress of a feather.

But, it was all you needed to nearly stop your heart midway.

Before he could pull away, you took his wrists and melted into him, pressing a little harder, sucking his mouth in earnest. He blinked in surprise at first, but once he noted the serenity in your face, he couldn’t say no. Instead, he held you against him, moving his mouth rhythmically against yours.

Any kind of recovery required set paces. They never happen by magic.

But, with him at your side, you knew everything was going to be okay, no matter what.


	8. Torn Leaves

[Nishinoya x Depressed!Reader]

Sinking.

Aching.

Breathless.

Heavy.

Despite the lightness of the cool breeze against your chapped skin, despite the cheerful golden light directly to the west of you, greeting with a wave and applause, these horrid burdens continue to press you the browning grass beneath you. Your head propped against the base of the tree, you sigh as you watch the leaves twirl about you, dancing with the wind. Nimble fingers grasp the thin frame of the leaves, tugging, pulling, tearing, until brown remains scatter across your chest. Again, you take another: first in half, then in thirds, fourths, fifths, until they pepper over you once again.

The lump in your throat continued to build. The sinking in your chest grew.

All you longed to do was cry, but you no longer possessed the strength to do so.

You never understood where this feeling began. You always enjoyed school. You were content with your place in life. It started off small, one morning when autumn began. Your mood gradually traversed downhill, further and further, with each passing day. You withdrew from tasks and hobbies you normally enjoyed. Your conversations diminished until you hardly spoke to anyone at all. The cloud hanging over you grew until it constantly stormed, leaving you in the darkness.

The only place you found any solitude was beneath the elegant shield of the trees, picking colored leaves, lightly ripping them until they scattered about you. It was a comforting stemming habit you developed. You always tore pieces of paper or leaves. You never knew why. It just happened.

You would resort to anything at this point if it meant an escape from the raincloud.

After the demolition of one more leaf, you rested your head against the cool grass. With a deep breath, you inhaled the fresh, clean scent of the plants, the biting air, occasional car exhaust from a passing vehicle. Not even your room at home could bring you this solace.

But, there was always one contribution that always broke the silence.

“Hey there!” came a call, causing your heart to jump in your throat.

You glanced around and spotted a short figure with golden eyes, glittering brighter than the stars and a mess of dark hair with a swoop of gold hanging in the middle, and a sheepish grin that both made you smile and cringe.

“Hey, Noya,” you breathed with a slight roll of the eyes. Then, you sunk back into your little spot.

Yu Nishinoya, libero of the Karasuno volleyball team.

You have shared classes with this ball of energy for as long as you can remember, and his boisterous nature exhausted you since day one. He slapped you on the back, yelling in your ear “GOOD MORNING” even on days when sleep ran from you. He rubbed your hair as you passed each other in the halls, always ruining the hair you spent so long to perfect. He stole pieces of your lunch with an obnoxious laugh. He would scream his goodbyes from the other end of the school if possible as you made your way home. Even in the midst of the mundane, he made each day bearable and interesting.

And even when you convinced yourself you longed for solitude, his presence filled a hole within you you didn’t even know existed.

With a grunt, he flopped next to you, taking no consideration of your bubble space. The smell of sweat and deodorant poured off of him in waves. Beads of moisture sparkled along his brow and neck while his pants and jacket soaked up the rest. His normally gravity defiant hair had been tussled and drench with water from a long day’s practice. Your eyes followed every curve and sharp edge of his face, the line of his nimble and strong neck. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t think he was easy on the eyes. In fact, he was quite lovely, especially looking at him so quiet and relaxed.

He was just louder than a gaggle of angry crows looking for food.

His eyes followed the line down to the plain of your chest where bits of leaves still stuck to your jacket. He cocked an eyebrow.

“What’s this?”

You glanced down. “Just some leaves.”

“You ripped them up? What did they ever do to you!”

You scoffed and pursed your lips.

“Hey, I’m just kidding,” with that, he flicked your forehead.

Grunting in reply, you attempted to bat his hand away only to miss.

“Heh. Missed.”

“Give it a rest, Noya.”

“No.”

You groaned and rolled on your side and turned your back to him. Narrowing his eyes, he gingerly placed a hand on your arm and tugged you closer. With a quiet gasp, your heart fluttered, and heat rose into your cheeks. Then, nestling his chin in the crook of your neck, he murmured,

“It’s gonna be okay.”

You took a moment to let his words sink in.

“Wait, what?”

His hand traveled up and down your arm, firmly yet softly. “You’re gonna be okay. You’re tough. You can get through this.”

Biting lip in attempt to hold back a sob, you reply, voice breaking,

“Thanks...Thanks, Noya. I really needed that.”

Suddenly, he pinched your cheek with a laugh. “I know that!”

“Ugh, knock it off!”

“Whaaat?”

The storm refused to leave you immediately. You were always aware that dispersing such a tempest couldn’t happen by magic.

But, the fact that he was willing to jump in with you, take your hands and dance in the rain, it was more than enough.


	9. Always In My Head

[Asahi x Anxious!Reader]

_Thump...thump...thump..._

Despite the calming music filling the room, the artificial sounds emanating from your sound machine, all you perceived was the pounding of your own heart. Peeling aches coursed from the top of your head down into the base of your neck. Your spine cried out from the pressure of your horrid posture, constantly hunching over a book or a laptop. Piles of notecards scattered about your room. Pieces of paper both used and discarded were strewn about the floor. 

Every inch was covered with your efforts and struggles.

This paper, this thesis, was more than just a simple piece of homework. Your future resided in this work. This would either set you with the college you so dreamed of or completely derail it. You spent every hour of every day since the beginning of the semester slaving on what you hoped would become a masterpiece. 

And the work was taking its toll on you.

Rarely did you sleep. In fact, you couldn’t even remember the last time you slept in your bed, as you just as easily passed out for a couple of hours on the couch, your chair or even the floor. 

But, the anxiety.

Oh, the anxiety.

That horrid feeling of terror and dread, the pounding of your heart, sweating, your stomach literally in knots, your lungs constantly begging for air, dizziness, tension hit you like a ton of bricks. You would have gladly traded in all the muscle aches in the world if it meant ridding yourself of these ghastly sensations.

But, you embraced it now. Everything you attempted, every remedy you utilized never eased the pain.

And you would live with it until you were finished.

With a harsh sigh, you stood up and stretched your limbs, listening to the occasional crack and pop. 

“Ugh, disgusting,” you grumbled, shuffling over to your desk.

“Beep!” went your phone as soon as you switched it on.

“What? 15 new texts?”

Your thumb swiped over the keypad. Then, you entered the inbox.

They all came from the same person: your boyfriend, Asahi Azumane.

Your already pounding heart raced even faster, causing sweat to dabble your forehead.

“Hey, babe. Wishing you luck on your paper.”

“Hey, babe. Thinking about you.”

“I miss you.”

“When will you be free?”

“Hey, I haven’t heard from you yet.”

Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes. 

“Babe, are you okay? I’m worried about you.”

“Are you home, baby? Can I come visit?”

“Fuck!” you hissed and slapped a hand to your forehead. “He’s probably so pissed!” 

Yet, you continued through the messages, until the notifications disappeared. Unable to take it anymore, you pushed aside your phone and rubbed your face. You two had only been dating a month and a half before you started working on your thesis. You were at least calling and texting everyday. But, as time progressed, and as your anxiety piled on, you withdrew yourself more and more, until you finally stopped talking. You never doubted your affection for him. 

In fact, it was just the opposite. 

He was all you thought about. 

When thoughts concerning your thesis released you, you thought of him. You wondered how he was. You worried about him. You hoped for his well being. You cried because you ached for him so. 

Yet, too scared were you to confront him. Being tortured by this burden, the last thing you desired was to become a black hole to him, nothing more than an emotional vampire, complaining about your struggles and worries when he suffered from his own. 

And so you withdrew from him, at least, until you could finally breathe easy.

After swallowing the tightening lump in your throat and wiping a tear from your ear, you rose from the couch and paced the room a bit. Your head reeled about so much so, it made you dizzy.

Was this the wrong choice? Was this straining your relationship with him? Was this making things worse? Was he angry with you? Would he break up with you? Would this make push him into the arms of another woman?

Over and over again, these voices screamed at you. Your heart raced faster and faster still. Cold sweat dripped down the contours of your face. Your breaths came in shallower and shallower, until you were almost certain you were about to fall apart.

Clutching the side of your head, you inhaled ready to scream.

_Knock. Knock._

You froze.

_Knock. Knock._

The...the front door?

Gulping down the air, you scrambled over, brushing back your messy locks, panting just a little in hopes to attain your composure again.

With a trembling hand, you clasp the cold knob and pull it.

Soft pools of brown, messy dark hair, a tall frame covered in loose, athletic clothing: could it be?

“Hey, babe.”

Oh, how velvety his voice was. How much you missed that.

Your mouth hung open a moment as you drank in the sight of Asahi standing at the entrance. He took a minute to observe you too; the dark circles beneath your eyes, the hollows of your cheeks revealing your lack of nutrition and sleep, your back, curved as if the weight of the world pushed against your shoulders.

With a slight frown, he placed a large, calloused and heated palm against your cheek. Your heart jumped, but this time, a warm delight spread across your chest. 

“I’ve missed you,” he muttered. “You look so tired.”

The chains locking the door snapped open. Without a second to even think, tears poured from your red eyes, and you threw your arms around his strong neck.

“I am,” you cried against his shoulder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so damn much.”

He blinked adjusting to the shock of your actions. Then, he settled into you, stroking the back of your head. 

“Then, why did you disappear like that?” disappointment and sadness riddled his voice, but you detected no sense of hostility. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, rubbing your face in his white shirt. “I’m so, so, so sorry. I have been so stressed out. I just didn’t want to wear you out. I was afraid you’d get annoyed with me or tired of me or-”

“Hush,” he whispered against your hair before pressing a kiss into your head. “I know how you feel, but I’m your boyfriend. You can say whatever you want to me. I won’t mind.”

You sighed and managed to drown back the tears in his scent and his love. Nestling into his embrace, you muttered,

“Thank you...”

He was always in your head since day one. He was your healing and your foundation, despite his own weaknesses.

And only he possessed the power to ease your troubles away.


	10. One More Time

[Hinata x Depressed!Reader]

_”Give it to me!_

_”Bring it here!_

_”One more time!”_

His voice rings out in the impending darkness. Everything spins. The world outside becomes a fog. You sink into your bed as the weight presses you further, dragging you down, more and more.

Tears burn your eyes, and your heart clenches with the despair plaguing you for far too long.

This is the only way out. You convince yourself that it is better this way.

Yet, his voice echoes loud and true in the waning light:

_”One more time!!”_

Flaming hair, eyes sparkling brighter than the sun on a clear day. 

_”One more time! Toss it to me!”_

He darts across the court, faster than a hummingbird in spring. He calls out to his teammates with such urgency and vigor.

And then, he flies. 

Utilizing every bit of energy he can muster, he lunges at his target with everything he has. 

If he misses, even if he gains a point, he turns to his partner and shouts,

_”One more time!”_

_”Again!”_

His wishes are always heard.

You always watch him with fascination. You envy that fire and determination he contains not just for his passion but for every aspect of his life.

 _”Try again!”_ he says to you.

 _”Don’t give up!”_ he tells you, clapping a hand to your shoulder. 

_”You can try again!”_ he assures you as he wraps you in a tight embrace as you soil his uniform with your tears.

Your limbs give way. No longer to you possess the strength to even move. The poison spreads through your veins, like ink spreading through clear water. 

Every breath is forced and labored. 

Yet, you hear him.

You still hear him, your guardian angel, calling out to you from the court:

_”Don’t ever give up!”_

_”One more time!”_

A burst of cold adrenaline shoots through. A light bursts forth at the end of the closing tunnel. With a cry, you fall from your bed.

The floor wavers. You trip and fall as you shuffle your way to the bathroom.

_”Give it to me!”_

_”Toss it to me!”_

Gripping the white seat, you shove your fingers down your throat. Receiving the signal, your body works to expel the overdose you swallowed.

Your stomach twists and turns. Damn, does it burn.

But, you hear him. You hear his mantra cycling in your mind.

_”One more time!”_

_”Don’t ever give up!”_

Exhausted and weary, you collapse onto the ceramic floor after you finish your efforts. The door to your bedroom multiplies and spins.  
The darkness clouds about you.

But, slow and deep, 

you breathe.

_”One more time!”_

After what seems like centuries, the light breaks forth. Softness supports your head. The room is cold. Though your head pounds and your mind fogs, you feel the chilly air filling your lungs and releasing between your lips.

You are alive.

“Hey,” a familiar voice whispers at your side.

You squeeze your eyes together and moan. With aching muscles, you sit up and lean against the pillow. You notice the sounds of beeps, machines humming. 

“A hospital?”

“Yeah, your parents found you unconscious in the bathroom,” the boy’s voice tells you. “So, you were brought here. You’ve been out a couple of days.”

“I have, huh?” 

Finally, you observe the owner of the voice: eyes brighter than the sun’s and hair like fire.

“H...Hinata?”

Immediately, tears pool at the corner of his eyes. A strong, calloused hand grips your wrist.

It’s as if the pain never existed to begin with.

“I’m so proud of you,” he chokes back a sob, but the tears still streak down his face.

You smirk a little. “Why? I almost-”

“Yeah, but you didn’t give up, did you?”

You ponder his words a moment. 

Even in the face of death,

even when you hung by a mere thread,

you spat in the face of death and turned right around.

_One more time..._

Your smile widens, and you rest your free hand atop his mess locks.

“It’s all thanks to you and your victory speech, you moron,” you say with a tired laugh.

Unable to contain the urge, he clasps your hands in his and bursts into soft cries. He rests his forehead against the bed, hanging to you as if his own life depends on it. 

“Throw it to me next time,” he muffles into the sheets. 

“Hm?”

“When you feel that way,” he tells you, eyes swollen and red. “Throw it to me, all that pain. I promise I’ll be there to catch you.”

Your heart leaps. 

_”Throw it to me!”_

With a quiet whimper, you pull him towards you, holding him with every bit of strength you have. Swallowing back his own tears, he smiles and softly strokes your head.

He alone gives you the strength to fight and to win.

He alone provides the light you need to run through the darkness.

He alone gives you exactly what need most, what you need to save you in your blackest hour:

_”One more time!”_


	11. Crashing

[Kuroo x Anxious!Reader]

“Hey, I’m home, babe.”

Silence.

“Babe?” Kuroo placed down the crinkling sacks. He glanced around the room for a moment, but all was still.

His heart raced faster.

“Baby, I got some take out. You hungry?”

Still, no answer.

A lump fathered in his throat. Cold sweat, formed along as brow. In a frantic rush, he began his search through the apartment.

“Please,” he prayed. “Please, please, no.”

Crashing...

Unbeknownst to Kuroo Tetsurou, the world was ending. Everything was going to come crashing down any second, and it was going to take you with it.

At least, that was how you saw it.

In the end, he knew all along. He has always known.

Ever since your childhood years, something gloomy seemed to follow you every where you went. As a joke, you two always called it your personal imp, as it lurked during the most inappropriate of times.

Nonetheless, it never ceased to cause you pain and distress.

As you matured, you learned more about your problem, and he even encouraged you to seek out help. Still, how easy it was to feel isolated, alone, as if you were the only person in the world suffering in this manner. Logically, you realized that was just a result of that anxiety.

Logic frequently failed to win in a battle with fear at times.

Kuroo suggested the notion of medication, but the idea of consuming foreign chemicals, possessing the power to completely alter your brain, terrified you.

On the other hand, you suffered so greatly, you wondered if this might be the only option.

You knew you worried him too. He always put on a strong face, smiled, and laughed off his pain as if it meant nothing. To him, you were the more important matter. You needed to attention and healing.

All you wanted though, more than anything, was to disappear into nothing, fade away form existence.

No words truly existed for Kuroo to describe how much he feared you taking action on these thoughts.

None in the slightest...

The bedroom, the guest room, the kitchen, the living room, Kuroo practically combed each room of the little apartment. He had no idea what to look for or what to expect. Blood? Rustled cabinets? Maybe you weren’t home at all?

If that wasn’t the case, he could be out all night looking for you...

With his stomach doing a million and one turns inside, he rumpled his black, messy hair before shuffling to the bathroom, the one inside your bedroom. It was the only place he had yet to check, and even if a small percentage remained, it was a fraction he was willing to take.

The hinges moaned as he lightly pushed them open.

Fresh steam was a good sign; meant you had been there. With a wave of his hand, he pushed aside a bit of the thickening fog. The shower curtain was moist, and the bathmat was covered in splatters.

Then, he saw your form, laying still and motionlessly

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. His feet seemed immovable, glued to the tile.

For a fraction of a second, he forgot to breathe.

Frantically running to the rim of the bathroom, he shoved aside the curtain and placed a hand on your arm.

This proved to be the longest second of his entire life as he waited for a sign, a twitch, a breath, anything to prove you still lived.

As his cold fingertips brushed over your skin, and you twitched in response, he finally breath. A weight finally seemed to lift off of his chest.

Before anything else, Kuroo snatched the nearest towel to drape over you, soaking up any loose droplets. Suddenly, you gasped, jolted, whipped your head to spot the culprit. Unfazed, he smiled and continued to wrap you all snug in the towel. Before even speaking, he gathered you in his arms, and immediately, you clung to him.

“Hey,” he murmured. “I got you. No worries.”

You remained quiet as he carried you to your bedroom. After laying you down on your bed, he closed the blinds, turned on the bedside lamp, and placed himself at your side. Your eyes were closed, slightly wrinkling your brow and the corners of your eyes. Though he knew of your discomfort, he was just happy to see you here with him, alive. He was happy just to see you still fighting, still trying, even if it hurt. 

And he’d be with you every step of the way, even if it all came crashing down.

Kuroo pressed a kiss into your temple.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered against your skin.

You breathed. You swallowed hard.

At last, tears rolled from your tightened lids. Though you despised crying in front of others, too tired were you to even care at this point. You just hid your face in his jacket, until that pain tightening your chest and abusing your heart withered away.

“Why...,” your voice cracked. “Why do you put up with me?”

“Hm?”

With a tired laugh, you gazed into those warm, pools of brown, tinted with dark circles, but still glinting with love.

“Why do you put up with me?” you muttered more to yourself than anything. “It must be so...stressful...dealing with me...”

Instead of an answer with words, he took your face gently in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. The touch melted the fears away, melted the stress away. Your heart raced with delight, and heat coursed throughout your body.

Even after a thousand kisses, each one still left you breathless.

Lips still touching, he replied with a smirk,

“You’re mine, baby. Why give up the great times just ‘cause we can’t power through the bad, ya know?”

You shrugged.

“True, but doesn’t it get tiring?”

With another short peck, he said with a grin,

“Totally worth it.”


	12. Please

[Bokuto x Reader]

"Hey...hey, babe. Heeeeeey."

"I'm reading. What is it?"

"......."

"Why are you creepily sidling up to your chair?

And why the thing with the eyebrows...?"

"Hey, babe."

".....What."

"If you were a triangle,

you'd be _acute_ one. Am I right?"

".......Bokuto, please...."

"Wait, no, why are you hiding your face in the book?"

"Babe. Babe....BAAAAAAAAAABE."

"Get back on the court! You gotta practice!"

"Look up from your phone first....Hey! Don't glare at me!"

"What is it..."

"So, baby."

" _What._ "

"Are you a soda?"

"......."

"Come, say no."

".....No."

" 'Cause I would _mount and do you_ allll night. Ayyyye?"

".......Bokuto, please..."

"Wait, baby, where are you going?"

"You're sleeping on the couch tonight."

"WHAT?! NO! .....Kuroo, stop laughing!"

"Hey, baaaabe. Babe! ....Babe?"

"......."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Hey, why are you crying?"

"It's nothing. I promise I'll be okay."

"Don't give me that. Come here. I've got a shoulder: put it to good use."

"Thanks..."

"There, much better than being by yourself, right?"

"Actually, yeah...I really needed this. Sorry I kinda look like shit."

"You? Look like shit? Impossible!....Hey, there's the smile I love so much."

"I already feel so much better."

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn't at least do that?"

"You're the best."

"Of course, I am!"

"Pfffft."

"......."

"......."

"Hey, babe."

"Yes, Bokuto?"

"I got one more pick up line for ya."

"Hit me with your best shot."

"Wanna come back to my place?"

"......"

" 'Cause I got pizza, chocolate, and funny movies!"

"....Yes, please!"

"SCORE."


	13. Cake Smudge

[Bokuto x Reader]

“And here we have the Bokuto owl in his natural habitat.”

“Mmm?”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched the captain of Fukurodani ravenously devour his lemon cake.

Honestly, you breathed a sigh of relief.

You rolled out of bed at 7 AM, while sleep still held Bokuto fast. Cooking his favorite breakfast, packing his favorite lunch to take with him to school, preparing his favorite dinner and cake, your feet, down to the abductor digiti minimi, ached from the constant walking and hustling about, trying to make your boyfriend’s day as perfect as possible. As his birthday fell on a weekday, his big birthday party with all his friends was postponed until the coming Saturday, but he didn’t mind. Just as long as he could come home to a good movie and good food, he would be a happy camper.

Immediately after practice, Bokuto threw his bag lazily onto the bed, singing obnoxiously at the top of his lungs on his way to the shower. You involuntarily cracked almost a hundred smiles listening to his boisterous, melodic expression of his current state of birthday euphoria. Just as you flipped on the choice of movie for the evening and placed your masterpiece of a dinner on the little coffee table in front of the couch, a pair of strong arms clasped you around the waist.

“Hey, hey, hey!! Lookit you with all the nice food and the presents!”

His cheers literally rattled your eardrums but you laughed heartily at his wet, messy hair tickling your cheek.

“Well, you other the birthday boy,” you said as he plopped you on the couch.

“And the birthday boy is starving!” without a moment’s hesitation, he reached for his plate and began stuffing his face.

“There’s plenty, so have as much as you want!” you replied, pressing “play.”

The sheer volume of Bokuto’s stomach never ceased to amaze you. Every scrap of food literally was vacuumed away by your boyfriend. Throughout the viewing of the film, his head either rested in your lap or he was in the kitchen scraping up seconds, thirds, fourths, until he was about to burst. Despite moans and groans from the churning of his stomach, before the word “cake” escaped your lips, he hopped from the couch, gazing at you with golden eyes full of longing.

You had to literally hold him back to prevent him from destroying your lovely baked creation.

“Hey, I’d like to at least try a slice of what I made too,” you giggled as you sliced even pieces.

He simply laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his head.

So, here you were, taking pictures of your beloved, scarfing down his third piece of cake. Having tasted the fruits of your labor, satisfied with the results, you gave Bokuto the okay to consume as much as his happy heart desired.

It was his birthday after all.

Click!

And another snapshot was taken.

Bokuto blinked at the bright flash, then scrunched his nose upon realizing your actions.

“Wha?” he grumbled mouth full of cake. “You feen takin’ phics fof me?”

You grinned.

“Of course! It’s your birthday!”

With a loud gulp, he reached for your camera.

“Come ooooon, babe. I look like a mess!”

“No, you look adorable!”

As he grabbed for you, you turned your back against him, and his face met with the hard curve of your spine.

“Oof-!”

“Tough luck, buddy.”

“Lemme see the pictures!”

“No! I don’t want you to delete ‘em!”

His arms clasped you tight pressing you into his chest as curious hands fumbled about.

“Stooooop it! That tickles!”

The cheeky devil grinned from eat to ear. This was no longer about the camera.

“Baaaaaaaaaaaabe? Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabe?”

You attempted to curl up and protect your belongings. But, his tickle assault wouldn’t stop. You started to waver.

“Bokuto, stoooooooop!” you begged, tears of laughter brimming your eyes.

His fingers feathered up and down your side.

“Baaaaaaaaaabe?”

It was too much. You fell over, allowing him to hover over you and pepper your face with kisses. Your heart fluttered with delight at the light, playful contact, and contrary to your batting and protests, you wanted more. Eventually, you simply wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips into his. With a small groan of approval, he settled onto you, cradling your head with his arms. His mouth moved hungrily with yours, tongue sliding over your own, and his fingers knotted themselves in your hair.

Damn, did he taste sweet.

Needing a breath, you pulled with a light gasp as did he. You smiled at the red flooding to his cheeks and ears.

“Mmm,” he hummed, running his nose down your jaw. “Best part of the birthday, hands down.”

Laughing and kissing his cheek, you replied,

“Happy birthday, Bokuto.”

He thanked you by placing one more kiss on your lips. After pulling away, he stopped a minute to examine your face, and he stayed....suspiciously silent for longer than normal.

“What?”

Suddenly, he poked his finger into the corner of your mouth and chuckled.

“Ya gotta cake smudge there, babe.”

Your eyes widened for a moment. Then, you pursed your lips.

“Yeah, well, you look like you were paint splattered.”

He scoffed.

“I do not!”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Well....er...you’re stupid!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re gonna eat those words!”

“Like the cake?”

“That’s it!”

“H-hey-! Wait-! Bokuto, put me down!”

“I’ll show you what happens when you cross the birthday boy!”


	14. Cruel Jokes

[Bokuto x Reader]

Why.

Why,

Of all the times.

Bokuto hunched over as his stomach made another horrific, bellowing cry, loud enough for all the world to hear. Sweat trickled down his brow both from the strain and from sheer terror. He prayed everyone would be too busy with the game to even think of the the spare bathroom at the back of the school, but he couldn't bare the thought of his team mates taking the spotlight from him in his absence.

Ugh, here he was supposed to impress you, the love of his life, whom he personally invited to this game in order to prove his worth to, and what happens? The fried chicken he ate earlier that day came back to bite him in the ass...almost literally. 

With his colon releasing another grotesque growl, he wailed as loud as he could in total despair. How could the fates possibly be any crueler to him?

“Bokuto?” Came a faint voice from outside. 

His heart dropped in his chest. 

No.

 **No.**

_It couldn’t be._

He perceived a soft rapping against the door.

“Bokuto? Are you okay, sweetie?”

Damn it. It was you. 

Of all the cruel jokes...

Clearing his throat, in attempts to regain his bearings, he called, 

“Errr, uh, yeah, I’m fine.” 

“You’ve been in there for fifteen minutes, and it sounds like you’ve been crying.”

He bit his lip.

Even behind a locked door, he couldn't hide from you...

Gripping his hair, he muttered back in deepest humiliation,

“My stomach is being an asshole...” 

Completely unfazed, you answered back,

“Do you need any medicine? I have some for gas, constipation, diarrhea-”

“ _That one._ ”

“You got it.”

He couldn’t help but feel relief swell in his chest. 

“Oh, by the way..."

“Yeah?”

“Can we keep this a secret?” 

A moment of silence past, and he saw the small orange bottle slide under the door. 

“What? I dunno what you’re talking about.”

And a little smile perched on his lips.


	15. Crazy

[Kuroo x Reader]

Similar to that of a scratched record forever locked within a time loop, doomed to repeat the same portion of a song over and over again, so your brain followed the same fate as that tragic record - only with a humiliating memory instead of a cycling tune. 

You watched the cluster of leaves slowly descend, billowing and swirling at the mercy of the wind, until they piled around your feet. The chilly breeze nipped at your cheeks and nose leaving behind patches of red skin. Your fingers, raw and pink, rapped against your knees, and your teeth burrowed into your cracked lips until you swore a droplet of blood coated the tip of your tongue. 

But, that was nothing in comparison to the nausea swirling in your stomach, the weight of humiliation pulling you down like the moon to the earth, the heat welling up in your cheeks, forehead, even ears, a cringe so violent, your body curled against itself into the fetal position, allowing you to repeatedly bang your head against your knees until the ache peeled throughout your skull.

Finally. Finally. After all these years of longing and crushing from a distance, too terrified to even breathe the same air as him, you _finally_ gathered up the courage to speak to Kuroo Tetsuro, the handsome captain of Nekoma. Intelligent, witty, charming, a good leader to his team, goofy at times, he was everything you ever wanted in a guy, but you, dressed in a lovely garb of insecurity and anxiety, internally combusted into a mess of stress and lovesickness if he so much glanced as at you. You only mustered an occasional “good morning” or “do you know our next assignment,” which were the equivalent of an Olympic victory. Then, at long last, after attending one of his games, fate granted you the golden opportunity - the opportunity to actually engage in a normal, human conversation for more than thirty seconds with Kuroo. You would never forget the multiplying butterflies filling your stomach, your intestines, your esophagus, the closer you approached him. He flashed over a grin, and your heart stopped for a moment. 

_This was it,_ you told yourself. _Don’t mess this up._

You probably could have been a little more positive, but time was of the essence. 

After a quick exchange, you managed to flow into a general conversation about the game, school, the weekend, and you found yourself feeling more and more comfortable. It was better than anything you could have hoped for.

Maybe you could bump it up a notch? After all, you wouldn’t want him to forget you.

Then, a brilliant idea popped into your head. Your friends had planned a Halloween part next weekend. Anyone from the school was invited. Maybe you could _casually_ throw the idea out. It would certainly provide another opportunity to talk with him again, and he seemed like the type to enjoy a relaxed get-together. 

And that was exactly what you did. 

You threw it out there.

...or violently chunked it out into the abyss was more like it.

“Hey, my friends and I are throwing a Halloween party next weekend! You should come! Well, I mean, only if you can and if you want to. It’s not like you’re obligated or anything. But, there’s gonna be snacks and movies and maybe games. It’s gonna be fun! You should drop by-wait, sorry, I already said that...”

All the blood rushed from your face once you analyzed how exactly those words came out. Kuroo too was silent, probably attempting to dissect your muddled words. 

And the embarrassment started to settle in.

After a very rushed “goodbye,” you practically fled from the gym, and you refused to even make eye contact with him ever since.

That happened only a few days ago, and the memory relentless beat your mind into submission, making it the only thing you could think about.

Oh, what you would give to go back in time and redo that whole conversation all over again!

Or at least slap some sense into your past self!

You were certain to have scared him off now. Couldn’t you have at least acted _somewhat_ calm or normal?

Of course not. 

Anything involving a shred of romantic feeling couldn’t be that simple. It was a rule of life. Crushes made everyone crazy and irrational, and no one could escape. 

Curling your fingers into the fabric of your jeans, you squeezed your eyes together, choking back a cry. Though you were asked to accompany your friend to costume shop, you had neither the will nor desire. 

All it would do was make you think about the fact that the first conversation with your crush turned into a first rate disaster, one you could probably never recover from.

But, you couldn’t tell that to your company. 

No, no, no.

You would take this to the grave if you had too.

Upon hearing the rhythmic crunch of footsteps beneath the piling leaves, you took it as a signal of departure. Shoving your hands into your pocket, you slowly rose from your spot beneath the tree and turned to join your friend.

“So, how was tutoring?” you asked, brushing the dirt and leaf pieces from your jacket. 

A low chuckle suddenly stopped all your rational thought processes.

Wait - it couldn’t be-

“I don’t know about tutoring, but practice was pretty good.”

Slowly, you raised your eyes to see messy, black hair, a red uniform, lidded, dark eyes, a cocky smile.

_Kuroo?!_

Immediately, you tucked your chin and hunched your back in hopes that maybe your jacket and hood would swallow you into their void or something. Anything. 

Was running an option?

No, that would look worse than the rambling act you performed for him a few days ago. 

_How about just say something, dumbass?_

With a gulp and a clearing of your throat, you replied, 

“Ah, that’s good to hear. You getting ready for another game?”

Again, he chuckled.

“Seems like that’s all we’re doing these days, but I have an important question for you.”

Your mouth ran dry, and your blood chilled to the bone. 

“Oh?”

Almost causing you to scream, he practically clapped his hand on your shoulder with a firm grip. You swore your heart burst, and instantly, a bomb mixed with mortification and a strange glee from his touch detonated within you, setting everything on fire. What the hell were you supposed to make of this?! After all the layers of preconceived notions you built up, how were you supposed to respond?! You just looked up pitifully at him under the wide brim of your jacket’s hood.

His smile seemed to widen a bit at your reaction. Did he know you were suffering? Could he sense it somehow? 

Completely unfair...

Relieving yourself of the little tickle in the back of your throat, you muttered, 

“And your question was....?”

“The other night, at the game?”

_Oh, please, anything but that! Lightning strike me dead-!_

“Y-...yeah?”

“You forgot to give me a time and place.”

You blinked, and the little jackrabbits that were your mental pathways halted in their tracks. 

“Wait, what?” your eyes darted up at him, and he was grinning wider than the damn Cheshire cat.

“You’re Halloween thingy?” he said. “I need an address and general time of arrival!” 

Your jaw practically became unhinged, and your eyes widened. Kuroo’s hand drooped back to his side and into his pocket. A short breath whisked out his nose before his index finger poked under your chin to manually shut your mouth. 

Snapping back to your senses, your back straightened, jerking your head hard enough to knock your hood from your head.

“Ah, right, of course!” you forced out the worst courtesy laugh in the history of fake laughter. “I can’t believe I forgot.” 

Suddenly, his face softened.

“You seemed really tense that day.” 

“I....what?” your cheeks flushed even deeper than before. 

Crossing his arms and tilting his head, he smiled gently. 

“You know,” he said. “If you happen to run into me during lunch or before class, a simple ‘hi’ will do. I can take care of the rest.” 

Those words sent a wave of emotion to engulf you: relieved? Touched? Lovestruck? All of the above? Whatever they were, it triggered a little tear to accumulate at the corner of your eye. 

“I’m so sorry,” you practically whimpered. “I’m normally not like that.” 

“Hey,” he said, placing his hand on your head and rustling your hair. “Don’t apologize. At least you know now.”

You nodded after wiping the tear from your eye. 

“So,” his cheeky nature crept back into his demeanor as he leaned in slightly with a wink. “How about instead of the address you give me your number instead?”

Despite the legion of butterflies inflicting devastation within your abdomen once again, you grinned and pulled out your phone, while he did the same.

“Yeah, I like that better.” 

“Aaaaaand,” a mischievous smirk inched across his mouth. “Maybe set a coffee date?”

You raised your brows in shock, unable to speak for a moment. 

He shrugged.

“I’m merely suggesting. It’s chilly out these days. A hot drink always suits my fancy during this time, wouldn’t you agree?”

This felt all too surreal. 

You mused over possibly slapping yourself just to ensure the reality of the situation....but if it was real, you would look even crazier than before.

But, hey, maybe he liked a little bit of crazy after all. 

After a long, quiet sigh, releasing all of the tension and anxiety you had trapped and built up over the last couple of days, you smiled, and replied,

“Yeah, I agree.”


End file.
